


Two Soft Buns (and the Snake Tucked Cozy in Between)

by clusband



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Just bros being bros, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clusband/pseuds/clusband
Summary: Mallek gets in a fight; Diemen is there to help patch him up.Posting here from my tumblr for archival purposes.
Relationships: Mallek Adalov/Diemen Xicali
Kudos: 17





	Two Soft Buns (and the Snake Tucked Cozy in Between)

A loud grumble disturbs the hivestem, so loud you can practically hear the glasses shake on their shelves. 

Huh. Mallek must finally be awake.

Now’s your time to shine. You rush back into his rumpus block, and take pride in not being the stifling type. Not every moirail feels the need to watch their best and boy friend sleep while he recovers from surgery. But it’s fine, you did your job and checked up on him every fifteen minutes. And maybe you brushed his hair back, as bros do. And if you indulged in a tender little kiss to his forehead when he was sleeping? Well, you’ve been bros for a long time, man. It’s totally cool.

He slurs something that might be your name.

“What’s up bro,” you say, with all of the tender caring you can muster. 

“Pizza,” he says. He’s starting to unfold, a little. It reminds you a bit of a blooming onion; he certainly has the stench to go with it.

“Not happening, bro. You can’t eat solids, only liquids until-”

“You can jus-” he yawns, wiping the crust from his eyes. You help him sit up, offering him a sip from his energy drink. “The blender.”

“Huh? The what?”

“The...” he considers for a minute, opening up goregle translate. “Propelled blade grub pulverizer. Put my pizza in that.”

“Bro, I have been where you are, I totally get what it’s like to crave some Thick Warm Sausage-” Mallek smirks at the descriptor. “But I think you might be taking it a little far.”

“Troll’s gotta eat,” he’s zoning out to a minecraft video again. You’re guessing that even ceruleans need some extra rest after ingesting the cocktail of drugs and painkillers that he’s currently stuffed full of. But you know him better than to try to argue; hell, you know better than to argue with most of troll kind. It’s easier to coast through life between the two soft buns of O and K. 

“Alright, man, just hang on a second.”

The pizza- you’ve spent enough time around him to know he means flavordisk- is in his thermal hull. Should you warm it up? You’re going to be assaulting it with a spinning blade soon enough. Does this count as a solid? You’re certainly doing him a solid.

The flavordisk doesn’t pulverize well. You add some nightshade fruit puree to help liquify it. It’s a horrible, sickly shade pink by the time you’re finished with it.

When you return to the living room, Mallek is passed out on the loungeplanks again. One arm is flung off the side and the other grasps his palmhusk to his chest.

But he stirs when he feels you approaching.

“So did I win?” His sleep slurred voice is adorable. It’s a Hot Meaty Dog that you’re ingesting in your soul stomach. “The fight? Did I win?”

“No,” you tell him. He sighs, as if this is a huge annoyance for him.

“Did I look cool at least?”

“The dopest.”

“Heh. Hell yeah.” He offers you his fist. 

You bump it.


End file.
